


Master of Magic

by Emerys_Potter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21767137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emerys_Potter/pseuds/Emerys_Potter
Summary: Harry dies at the hand of Voldemort in the forest but when he appears on the platform he doesn't meet Dumbledore but Death.  With very limited information Death sends Harry to another world...a world where the Avengers have beaten Loki and his alien invasion and SHIELD are stepping up their efforts and influence.  Unfortunately for Harry it doesn't take long before he is targeted by SHIELD.
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Comments: 110
Kudos: 517





	1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter

“No sign of him, my lord.”

Voldemort sneered at his pathetic follower before slowly staking forwards into the empty clearing, looking out into the shadows of the Forbidden Forest.

“I thought he would come…” Voldemort murmured sounding somewhat disappointed.

_Snap_

The pale skin of Voldemort’s face twitched into a cruel smile as Harry Potter emerged from behind a tree. The silence was deafening as the Boy-Who-Lived stepped out from his hiding place and into the clearing with his head held high.

“No, Harry! _What are you doing here!?_ ” Hagrid wailed from his captured position on the floor of the forest.

“Silence!” A nearby Deatheater barked before magically tightening the cords around Hagrid’s throat, ensuring their captive wouldn’t disrupt again.

Harry didn’t look at his half-giant friend, knowing that there was nothing he could do for Hagrid or that he could do for him. 

“Harry Potter…The Boy-Who-Lived…come to die.” Voldemort said in his trademark eerie voice as his red eyes lit up in excitement. 

Harry remained completely still awaiting the moment that his greatest enemy would say the two words that would end his life. He didn’t bother paying much attention to the Deatheaters around them, knowing that Voldemort wouldn’t let him interrupt anyway, instead he kept his eyes fixated firmly on Riddle.

As Voldemort lifted his pale wand, Harry’s mind whirled to action throwing images of his life before his eyes; meeting Hagrid, getting Hedwig, being introduced to the Weasley family, befriending Hermione, getting to know Sirius, tutored by Remus and finally meeting the ghostly echoes of his loved ones. Each smile, laugh and embrace strengthened something inside of him until there was no fear left in his body, only his family and friends.

“Avada Kedavra!”

The last thing Harry James Potter saw was a flash of green light before his life was ripped away.

\--

Harry awoke on the floor of a pristine, and rather ghostly, Platform 9 3/4. Looking around Harry couldn’t see anyone around him and it made him a little spooked. Seeing nothing but an odd silvery mist that seemed to hang ominously around the station, Harry moved awkwardly to take a seat at the bench to his left. 

“Good evening, Harry.” 

Harry let out a very unmanly scream as he spun around to see a very gaunt male sitting next to him. The stranger had grey skin, sunken milky brown eyes and was wearing a massive black robe that hung horribly from his skeletal frame.

“Who the bloody hell are you?”

The stranger just chuckled but such a simple movement made Harry very uncomfortable as it sounded more like the jangling of bones than joviality. 

“You Peverells…always have a way with words, don’t you?” He rasped as his thin lips stretched into a smile. 

Harry shivered as he felt the intense cold that seemed to expell from the man beside him. “Who are you?”

The stranger grinned. “I am Death and you are trapped.”

Harry’s mind started putting things together and a sickening thought struck him. 

“Trapped? Here?” He asked looking around the possible bleak and washed out future he had.

“Well…for now. This is the inbetween where souls go before they move on but you...are a special case. You see, Peverell, the story that you know of the Peverell brothers and Death was mostly accurate.”

While Hermione loved being proven right in this current moment it was a feeling that Harry couldn't share. Every story in the magical world about Death, including the one about the Peverell brothers, was dripping with disaster and sadness. It wasn't necessarily how he wanted his story to end. “I’m the Master of Death?”

Again Death cackled causing Harry’s stomach to flip in disgust. “No, Peverell. Nobody can master death but joining together my three items does have consequences for you.”

Harry frowned feeling like he was in one of McGonagall's theory lectures. “What are you talking about?”

Rather than respond Death waved a finger and two items appeared before Harry. The first was a long and ornate white staff covered in intricate carvings while the second was a curved scythe that seemed to ooze death.

“Take one.”

Given the request and the two options in front of him, Harry couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that he was being tested again. With little other option Harry focused on the two weapons. The scythe certainly looked like a formidable weapon but there was something about it that seemed wrong to him. The staff on the other than seemed to vibrate with magic sending comforting waves over him.

“Take one.” The spirit repeated with his dead eyes glowing in mirth.

Seeing as he was already dead and opting to throw caution into the wind, as he mentally realised he had little choice, Harry stood up, reached out and took the staff. Instantly the staff started vibrating and emitting powerful waves of blinding white magic around the area. Rather than be worried about the staff in Harry’s hand, that seemed to be acting on its own, Death started cackling with laughter.

“Always the hard way, eh…you Peverells will always be humorous.”

White light soon filled the abandoned station and Harry knew no more.

\--

Three Months Later

\--

Harry awoke handcuffed to a chair in a dark room with the only source of light coming from a precariously hanging lightbulb above him. Taking a moment to try and clear his foggy mind Harry tried to recall the last thing he could remember. He could vaguely recall walking towards the elevator in his building. He had just pushed the button for the ground floor when he felt a sharp pinprick in his neck but everything after that was blank. 

With his memory not helping to answer any of his questions Harry opted for scoping his new depressing environment. He involuntary shivered as a fresh wave of cold artificial air wafted over him from above. Due to the weak light source Harry couldn’t make out much around him but the metal table directly in front of him and the chair he was currently attached to. He was tempted to just magically unlock his cuffs, especially as the metal was digging into his skin, and escape but if he did that he might not find out who attacked him. If he wanted to stay ahead of his new enemy, he’d need to get more information. 

Electing to be patient Harry waited in the cool room as goose bumps erupted out across his skin. It had been three months since he was sent to this new world, a world without magic, a world still healing after being attacked by aliens and he had no idea what to do. He had half hoped that Death would reappear and help him but Harry hadn’t seen the entity nor the white staff since his death.

Finally after what felt like hours being alone with his thoughts Harry heard a door briefly open from behind him before quickly closing again. Footsteps echo around the room as the visitor makes their way closer and closer to him. Harry takes a deep calming breath as he felt his heart beat and nerves surge with each step the stranger makes and tries to keep his mind busy by analysing his enemy. He can tell that the newcomer is a man from his distinctive stride, not to mention the missing sound of high heels, and mentally braces himself for whatever will come next. 

The man stops briefly behind Harry before slowly making his way to the other side of the desk Harry was sitting at. The man was rather unimpressive really and his plain expression didn’t exactly fit with what Harry mentally linked with the crazy kidnapper stereotype. He had short light hair and was wearing a fairly ordinary black suit, not that Harry was an expert on fashion, but it had clearly been pressed and cleaned to perfection.

“Good evening.” The man started not moving his blue eyes from Harry’s. “My name is Agent Coulson of SHIELD and I’m here to ask you a few questions.”

The confident tilt to the man’s voice gave Harry the impression that he should know who SHIELD was but he had no idea. Clearly seeing his confused expression Coulson elaborated. 

“We are, in essence, a governmental agency.”

If Agent Coulson was expecting a response he’d be disappointed as Harry had zero intention of playing along with his kidnapper. He could be from a governmental agency, he could still be crazy or perhaps something in between, but so far he’d offered no proof and he wouldn’t get anything from Harry in return.

Coulson’s blank expression was both unrevealing and dangerous in equal measure, effectively doing its job in making Harry feel slightly uneasy being in his presence. However, unfortunately for the suit in front of him Harry had survived a war and multiple run ins with the most psychotic wizard in the last century – the suit would have to try harder.

The silence hung awkwardly in the air for a moment before Coulson apparently got the message that he wasn’t talking.

“Who are you?”

All sense of being stoic was dashed at the odd question as Harry suddenly became gobsmacked at the man in front of him. Wasn’t it common for kidnappers to know who they were kidnapping? He quickly schooled his expression again and stared back at the man’s face.

“Who are you?” The man repeated in his soft tone. 

Rather than respond Harry just glared at the man. They had kidnapped him from his home and now they were wasting his time. The man stared at him for a second before he pulled out a maroon folder from within his suit jacket and gently placed it on the table in front of Harry. 

“If you are not sure of who you are perhaps I can help.” He said before opening the folder and spreading its contents on the table for Harry’s perusal. “Your name, according to your neighbours, is Harry Potter. However, we have been unable to find your name anywhere…in any database…which is a rarity in our line of work as at least most people have birth records. However, even the small amount of information we’ve managed to find on you, Mr Potter, only goes back to a month ago. Otherwise it seems that you don’t exist.”

Harry kept his mouth shut and the suit pressed on.

“Yet despite all the questions around you we are most concerned with your products.”

‘ _Ah…shit!’_ Harry thought with an audible sigh. 

When he arrived in this new world Harry had nothing but the clothes on his back and one of Hermione’s magical pouches. With no wand, not that he knew a spell to help create an identity, to help set himself up in this strange world Harry had fallen on the one skill he had for survival – magic. He had resorted to learning wandless magic and thanked Merlin that Hermione was through in packing their personal pouches and that it had made the jump with him. 

It had taken time and a lot of practice but he had managed to relearn several useful spells which helped him feel less powerless; and later protected him having to live a few days on the streets. Yet it was his potions that helped offer shelter, food and some financial relief.

While he never liked potions much back on his world, Harry found he didn’t mind it sans Snape breathing down his neck. It had started out fairly innocently at first, not sure how people managed to find him, but soon he was selling potions from his new apartment within a week of arriving. It wasn’t exactly how he envisioned his life but it was a step in the right direction. He wanted and fought for peace and he was finally going to get it.

“Products?” Harry frowned. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Really? Well let’s see if I can help you.” Coulson smirked reaching out and pointing to one of the pictures on the table. “This is a picture of Agent Blithe purchasing two Gawp Solutions and a Pomfrey Tonic.”

Harry flinched this time looking at the picture that clearly showed Harry handing three vials, two a dull yellow and the other a bright green, to a leggy blonde woman in a run down apartment. Seeing her picture Harry could clearly remember her visit. She’d come asking for help for a friend who’d been mugged on the street, she said that they were hurt and scared of being attacked again. Completely falling for her sob story and accompanying tears he had given her a healing potion and another two potions to help get over her fear. 

“Let’s try this again shall we, Mr Potter?” Coulson asked removing three familiar vials from his pocket and placing them on the table in front of Harry. “Who are you?”

He was tempted to cast a confundus charm on the man but he had a feeling that wouldn’t help make this problem go away; especially since it seemed he was telling the truth and he was from a governmental agency, as most crazy people can’t afford surveillance and undercover agents. After quickly thinking of options he sighed realising he didn’t have many and opted for partial truths.

“I’m not sure why you can’t find anything about me but I can tell you that my name _is_ Harry Potter. As for my ‘products’ I’m unsure why you are concerned about them. Has someone complained or gotten sick from them?”

So far the only things he’d sold people were a few Wiggenweld healing potions, an acne remover and some incredibly weak Strength Potions. There was nothing dangerous, addictive or immoral about any of the potions or their effects so he was fairly confident it wasn’t anything serious.

“Our problem is this…” Coulson started as he very slowly removed a picture from the bottom of the pile and placed it on top. Harry felt his heart stop for a moment as he instantly recognised the picture. “Our problem with you, Mr Potter, is that you’ve got no history, no records and teleported into the middle of New York in a flash of light.”

 _‘Shit!’_ Harry mentally swore. He knew he couldn’t afford to get the government offside here as there were no other wizards around to help him out and was on his own; one of the first things he’d checked. However, how could he possibly explain to this man, who was now carefully scrutinizing him with his eagle sharp eyes, that Death transported him from his home dimension and he’d just happened to land in New York.

Having already considered the possibility of getting caught with magical products, Harry quickly altered his excuses to his current situation. “I don’t exist in your systems as I wanted a fresh start and paid someone to delete my files and history. As for my sudden appearance I was experimenting and…”

“Experimenting?” Coulson inquired.

Feeling slightly more confident Harry quickly nodded. “Yes. I’m a chemist and I like experimenting. That’s what is in the vials. I’ve perfected those but I was working on a method of camouflage and tested it on myself. It was working well but when the effects faded away I wasn’t prepared for the change and there was a…flicker…of light and I blacked out.”

Coulson remained his usual stoic self until Harry finished and he quirked a disbelieving eyebrow at him. “You’re a chemist? A chemist that is working on an invisibility serum?”

Harry knew that he wasn’t the tallest guy and had only just turned eighteen but the disbelief was a little unnecessary. As for the chemist line it wasn’t much of a stretch as chemistry and potions were rather similar. 

“Yes.” Harry frowned. “Don’t believe that my height or age have anything to do with my skills.”

A small smirk appeared on Coulson’s face for a moment before it fell back into place. The agent opened his mouth to ask another question when he stopped, hummed in agreement and gave a small nod.

“Are you a university or college trained chemist?”

“No.” Harry replied reluctantly knowing how it would sound. “Self-taught.”

“Really? Seems an unusual talent or skill to train yourself in. Wouldn’t it have been easier to acquire professional accreditation?”

Not really having a good answer for that Harry took a leaf out of Coulson’s book and just stared blankly at him.

“Tell me about the serums have you managed to invent?” Coulson asked moving on.

Wishing desperately that he’d had the forethought to teach himself apparating in this world, Harry sighed and answered the question. “The Gawp Solution gives the drinker a boost to their physical strength for a short time and the Pomfrey Tonic is medicinal.”

“That all?”

“Yes.” Harry answered but he could tell that Coulson didn’t believe him.

“What about that camouflage solution you were talking about?”

“What about it?” Harry asked cocking his head to the side in confusion.

Coulson smirked briefly again and nodded. “I see.”

Before the agent could start up another round of interrogation Harry jumped in with questions of his own. 

“Why am I here and when can I go home?” He demanded. “If I’m under arrest shouldn’t you’ve read me my rights or something?”

Again Coulson opened his mouth to reply but stopped only to turn around and stare at the wall behind him.

“Yes, Director.” 

Instantly the door behind Harry reopened expelling a person with swift and powerful strides that made Coulson’s sound like a puppy in comparison. It hadn’t taken the stranger long before he was standing in front of Harry.

The new addition was a tall bald man with an eye patch, black trench coat and a powerful aura that screamed danger. The man repositioned himself to stand directly by the middle of the desk stared down at Harry like a disapproving parent about a scold their child. Studying the two men and their body language Harry had noticed how Coulson had taken an involuntary step back to stand in the man’s shadow the second he approached the table.

“I take it you’re the Director?” Harry said trying to be polite and not start yelling at the man responsible for all this knowing that he must have a lot of sway. “What’s your name?”

“To answer your pervious questions…” The man started as though Harry hadn’t just asked the man’s name. “…you are here because I want you here and you can go home when I say you can.”

“Great.” Harry drawled sarcastically.

“What is in your creations?” He demanded his hands falling to his hips. “I’ve been informed that they are not toxic but we’ve been unable to work out what exactly you used.”

“Ingredients.” Harry replied shortly as his earlier patience was rapidly running out, but was secretly pleased that they hadn’t been able to work anything out.

The Director’s eye narrowed. “There were no signs of a laboratory at your home or any location you’ve frequented in the last fortnight. How are you making these…creations?”

It was this that shred Harry’s dwindling patience to tatters. “You broke into my apartment?” Harry barked wishing that his hands weren’t chained up.

When he had rented out his small and pokey apartment in the cheapest part of New York he had been tempted to try and put up magical defences but decided against it. Unfortunately, the only spell he felt he had a shot of casting without a wand was the muggle repelling charm and as all his neighbours were muggles it wasn’t ideal. He now wished he had just done it. 

“What else can you make?”

Not the least bit intimidated by the Director Harry kept his mouth shut and was rewarded for his efforts when he noticed a twitch near the man’s good eye.

“Listen very carefully, Mr Potter, as I am a busy man and don’t have time to waste.” The Director growled dangerously. “I am going to offer you a job to work for SHIELD, putting your talents to use as a chemist in our Research and Development Division. Now…your alternative option is that I lock you away for the safety of the public and, as you technically don’t exist, I can assure you it won’t be difficult. Now in order to ensure you’ve not misunderstood anything we’ve said…you have no history, no allies, no money and no future unless you wizen up and work for me. I suggest you think it through quickly as I will not offer it to you again.”

Harry really didn’t like this guy but there was no denying they had him. He knew a number of spells that could get him out of the room and that could help him with a life on the run, something he preferred compared to living under another’s thumb, but again without a wand they weren’t an option. 

“Fine.” He bit out furiously. Harry fought to keep his face as blank as a guilty Slytherin as he mentally berated himself for such a silly slipup but he knew his tone gave it away. 

The Director swiftly removed a tablet from his coat pocket and placed it in front of Harry as Coulson moved to remove his cuffs.

“Read and sign the contract. Coulson will set you up with your new accommodation and HR information.” Director informed him with an air of smugness that annoyed Harry deeply. “Welcome to SHIELD, Mr Potter.”

With that said the Director swept out of the room allowing the door to slam behind him in his wake.

Cursing his stupid Potter luck Harry stared darkly at the offending tablet. He’d only had the clarity of mind to read the first line so far and recognise the blue bird icon in the top right of the page as his anger was impairing his ability to continue.

He just wanted to live a comfortable and happy life away from drama and danger, but it seemed that Death and Dumbledore weren’t exaggerating when they referred to ‘moving on’ as the next great adventure. It was just a shame that his next great adventure included agents and jerk directors.

“I suggest you start reading the contract, Mr Potter.” Coulson recommended softly. 

Harry glared at the man before grabbing it off the table and properly starting to read. He’d just gotten to the end of the first paragraph when the tablet flickered.

“Everything alright?” 

As the flickering had stopped Harry just waved away Coulson’s question and kept on reading. However, this time it flickered twice before the contract was replaced by another one. This contract had a big ‘A’ in the top corner and after starting to read it Harry knew it was certainly not the one that the Director would’ve approved. 

This new contract basically offered him room, board, protection from SHIELD and a nice salary if he agreed to work for the Tony Stark and the Avengers. Having heard a little about the Avengers since he arrived Harry wasn’t sure what they wanted with him, but there was a part of him that loved the idea of the Director not getting what he wanted. If he hadn’t been such a prat maybe Harry wouldn’t have minded working for SHIELD, he had to work somewhere, but now he was being given a better offer. An offer that didn’t involve working for the people that kidnapped him, interrogated him and broke into his house.

With a large grin Harry used his finger and signed his name on the bottom of the contract.

“I’m done, Coulson.”


	2. Red and Gold Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finishes up at SHIELD as they prepare him for the real world with a proper ID and paperwork. However, their other plans to make him a SHIELD asset goes up in smoke as they take Harry back to his apartment only to find a casual Tony Stark waiting for them.

After Harry had signed the contract things progressed rather quickly. Agent Coulson had taken him to the Human Resources Department and had him fill in numerous electronic and paper forms for new identification, citizenship forms and a new property rental agreement to name a few. While Harry was glad that they were helping to legitimise him, something he’d not been able to do himself, he did think that a library card back dated with hundreds of dollars of paid late fees was unnecessary.

As they moved around the department, filling in forms and taking numerous identification photos, Harry couldn’t help but be slightly in awe of SHIELD’s headquarters. When he’d first come to this new world it was easy to see that they were a lot more technologically advanced than the muggles he’d known but this was different. SHIELD practically vibrated with a mechanical hum as everywhere he looked he saw oddities like glass elevators, invisible communication devices and computers so small they could be held in one hand. It was equally fascinating and bizarre. 

Finally after hours of staring at dull paperwork and confirming details of his fake identity and new life, Coulson announced that they were done. Harry couldn’t help but grin in relief as Coulson directed him over to the nearby elevator at the end of the department.

“Now, Mr Potter, we’ll escort you to your home so you can pack anything essential as you won’t be returning to that area again. Afterwards we’ll ensure to sanitize the location for you.”

Harry frowned at the agent. He didn’t know what Coulson meant by sanitize, but as he was glad to finally leave he’d not questioned it. When they got to the elevator Harry noticed that standing on either side of the doors were two agents. While everyone else he’d come across so far in SHIELD had been wearing well fitted suits, these two were wearing tight black leather that looked rather similar to dragonhide but smoother and featured the SHIELD logo in their right shoulder. 

The first agent was a giant of a woman with sleek hair as dark as ink and an ugly bruise on her sharp jaw. With her blank expression and physical build Harry had no trouble picking her as an agent; or perhaps as a mixed martial arts fighter and wrestler muggles watched on tv. Her companion was much smaller in comparison with a hooked nose and haunted brown eyes. While his small statue may make some doubt his prowess, Harry had learnt in his war with Voldemort that the size of your opponent means very little to their threat.

When they approached the elevator immediately opened for them and Coulson quickly got in with only a nod to the two stoic agents as Harry and the two other agents followed him in. Immediately as the doors closed Harry started to feel slightly edgy being so closely surrounded by the three SHIELD agents. They were hardly allies and thanks to his training from the war Harry had to fight himself to stay calm as the unknown agent pushed the button on the elevator. As their metal box started to hum to life and make its descent Harry started talking a few deep breaths to calm himself. 

Despite the days that stretched on from the war Harry noticed that he’d not been unaffected by his experiences. Dreams of battles and those he’d lost occasionally plagued him at night, sudden loud noises made his muscles tense and, other than complete strangers, Harry had difficulty being surrounded by those he didn’t trust; like the people who happily kidnapped him from his home. Other than those new quirks he’d not detected anything too dramatic but Harry was just glad that he hadn’t ended up as paranoid as Moody. 

As he felt his anxiety lower Harry couldn’t help but mentally groan at the turn his new life had taken. He wanted to just live in peace but with no other resources to fall back on Harry had used his magic as a method to survive and it had brought him those of questionable motives. Not for the first time since he’d regained consciousness in that SHIELD interrogation room had he wished to apparate away and go into hiding. Unfortunately, Harry doubted that he would get far as he suspected the moment he stopped running they’d find him again. He just hoped that the Avengers would be easier to deal with and be able to stand up against SHIELD. 

DING.

As one of the agents behind him nudged him forward and out of the lift Harry bit back the instinct to throw his elbow back into them and start cursing but he managed to hold it together. Taking the warning for what it was, Harry followed Coulson and stepped out only to gasp seconds later as he took in their cement garage. 

While their entire building was slick and outfitted with technology so advanced it was practically alien to him, the garage was something different again. 

The cement room looked more like a carpark or a car dealership as slick black cars were neatly parked in perfect rows around them as far as he could see in all directions. Harry had noted that the larger vehicles lined the outside of the walls as the more normal shaped ones filled in the rest of room. There was no doubt in his mind that if they were back in his world and he saw this he’d instantly assume that they were the richest people alive but now, as impressive as it was, he wasn’t sure.

Despite every car looking identical Harry and his new guards followed Coulson to a car in the third row from the front, where the four hoped in, the woman driving and the lithe man in the back with Harry, before they drove away.

The car ride was rather tense as the trio hadn’t so much as breathed loudly, leaving Harry to look out of the window from his seat. At first he was shocked to see that it was now late morning as his last memory before being taken was at night, but he swallowed his anger. It could wait and distracted himself with the sights around him. New York was an amazing albeit crazy city with its interesting occupants driven by a particularly unique beat that never seemed to slow down; like a living wild creature that never slept.

With only the crowded streets they past to keep himself entertained Harry was relieved when they finally pulled up outside his building. His home wasn’t anything flash as he was poorer than the Weasleys ever were, but as he wasn’t living with people as horrible as the Dursleys and had a roof over his head he wasn’t complaining.

As one the group left the car and followed Harry as he led the way into his building, into the abandoned dusty lobby and into the elevator. Harry practically growled as he watched the broad female agent push the button for the sixth floor and the elevator dinged before closing. Trying to ignore the possibility that these agents were the ones to riffle though his personal belongings, Harry bit his tongue, once again took a few calming breaths as he prayed for the day to end quickly.

Eventually the glacially slow elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Without waiting a second longer Harry strode out and padded along the sixth floor corridor to his flat at the end not caring if the SHIELD watchers were following. After having spent hours in the SHIELD headquarters Harry was pleased that they didn’t say anything about the different levels of standards; they had a fancy working environment that oozed money while Harry’s place smelt like wet dog and the carpet throughout the building stuck to your shoes like glue.

When they got to his apartment Harry found himself surprised and saddened at the revelation that he’d never see his first home again. The Dursleys had never been a home to him and Hogwarts would always be special but despite its dilapidated appearance this was a home that he’d picked, furnished and paid for himself. 

Knowing that he didn’t have much of a choice, Harry opened the door and gasped as his eyes were immediately drawn to the stranger sitting on his lumpy grey couch. The unknown man had laugh lines on his face, fly away black hair as he stretched out his feet on Harry’s wooden coffee table in the middle of the room.

“Stark?” Agent Coulson asked pushing into the room and suddenly looking rather pale. “What are you doing here?”

Instantly Harry’s mind flew back to the handful of times he’d bothered to read a newspaper and saw Tony Stark as Iron Man. He had to admit that Stark looked different out of his metal suit and in a casual red shirt and grease covered jeans but right now he wasn’t some famous inventor or hero, he was the guy who saved him from some government agency.

“You know Mr Stark?” Harry asked rubbing his temples not sure how many more surprises he was prepared to take in one day. 

“Of course he does.” Stark declares bouncing up from his place on the couch. “We go way back…don’t we Agent? Although as you’ve been dead for a bit now I’ve gotta say I’m impressed at how good you look. Is one of your backup dancers doubling as your stylist and makeup expert?”

Coulson seemed to expertly shrug off Stark’s words but Harry could tell both agents had tensed at his suggestion. 

“Dead?” Harry inquired managing to turn his giggle into a smile at the image of the SHIELD agents following him as dancers flying gracefully through the air.

Stark turned to look at Harry and grinned somehow looking a lot warmer and friendlier than the wolf-like one he showed Coulson a moment ago.

“Oh yes. During the invasion Coulson here was stabbed to death. Quite the upset I must say…” Tony said before turning his focus back to Coulson. “…and I’m impressed that you were able to keep it from me for this long, clearly I’ll have to make more routine inspections into SHIELDs files, but now it’s clear that you just faked everything.”

Coulson looked uncomfortable as his eyes glanced back at Harry and the two agents. However, Harry noted that Stark on the other hand looked incredibly smug and expectant as he grinned at Coulson. 

“Stay out of SHIELD servers, Stark, and I didn’t fake anything.” He eventually muttered softly just loud enough for Harry to hear. “Loki did kill me but Director Fury managed to save me somehow.”

Harry knew that as an agent Coulson could be lying in the hopes of protecting SHIELD, and probably get Stark to behave, but it still made him nervous. If they had somehow managed to develop technology to reverse death it made them very dangerous.

‘ _Perhaps this is the reason why Death sent me to this world…in the story of the Three Brothers he didn’t like being cheated out of the deaths of the brothers. He wasn’t satisfied until he eventually claimed all three.’_ Harry thought but quickly put the idea to the back of his mind as he didn’t want to miss anything between Coulson and Stark.

“That doesn’t explain why you kept it a secret and went to great lengths to sell a lie that included a funeral, your lawyer selling your property and all your personal items being donated to charity.” Stark folded his arms across his chest. “Poor form to hide it from the team, Agent, I know that Katniss and Red aren’t happy with you right now.”

If possible Coulson paled even further at Stark’s words. “You’ve already told them?”

“This morning.” Stark confirmed grinning widely. “You might not know this, considering you’re still legally dead, but all the Avengers live in my tower now. Makes gossiping over breakfast _so_ much easier.”

Coulson sighs deeply staring at the floor. “I’ll deal with it later I suppose.” He whispers before turning to look at Harry. “Please go and collect anything of importance. I want to get you relocated immediately.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Stark interrupted casually as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“What do you mean it won’t be necessary? In fact, why are you here, Stark? Lying in wait to belittle me about my near death...you could’ve done that anywhere but you waited and confronted me here…”

Harry noted that at the suspicious look in Coulson’s eyes the two accompanying agents had placed their hands on their holstered weapons. Not sure if there was going to be a shoot-out in his rather small apartment Harry looked over at the cause and noticed that he was still just standing their smirking.

“The kid isn’t your asset, Agent, he is my employee. Harry here has recently been signed up to Stark Enterprises and will be working directly for the Avengers and myself.”

Coulson smiled uneasily at Stark. “No, that’s not going to happen, Stark. Mr Potter has signed a contract with SHIELD only this morning.”

“Did he?” Stark asked sarcastically his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “JARVIS?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Harry startled at the unknown robotic British voice that emanated from Stark’s pocket, although he seemed to be the only one. 

“Please email Harry Potter’s employee file to Agent Coulson.” Stark continued with his eyes not straying from Coulson’s face which had grown so pale he could’ve doubled for Nearly Headless Nick.

“Straight away, Sir.”

‘ _Who the hell is Jarvis?’_ Harry thought as he watched Coulson take out his phone and start nervously flicking through something on the screen. ‘ _...he can't be throwing his voice...can he?’_

Coulson slowly put down his phone. “But…the forms…what did you do, Stark!”

Stark just smiled at Coulson’s lost expression. “Over the last few days I’ve been reviewing some of SHIELD’s files and I must say I wasn’t thrilled with what I found. Spying on a young budding scientist with no ties to evil organisations or even a parking ticket. So when JARVIS informed me that you’d captured young Harry here, well…I sought a different option for him.”

Coulson ground his teeth stretching his arm out and showing Harry his phone. “Is this the contract you signed?” 

Harry could easily tell that he was being shown the Avengers contract as the red coloring and the giant ‘A’ at the top was easily recognisable. Not seeing the point of keeping the agent in the dark, especially since Stark had already given him proof, Harry proceeded to explain what happened with the tablet he had been using to read the SHIELD contract.

“…and you just signed it?”

He opened his mouth to defend himself but was interrupted by Stark.

“Harry, why don’t you head into your room and start packing? I’ve got a few things to discuss with Agent before we can go.”

Assuming that he wanted to speak to Coulson in private Harry nodded along with the request, eager to get out of the increasingly tense atmosphere, and headed into his bedroom. His bedroom wasn’t very big, wide enough to fit his single bed and his backpack but long enough to make up for it. Always prepared in case he had to make a run for it, Harry walked over to his black backpack, threw it up onto the bed and started double checking everything in it.

He didn’t have a lot anyway so the bag was fairly empty as he only had Hermione’s magically expanded pouch, that housed his few remaining magical items, and a few spare clothes he’d bought himself from the profits of his potions. Living life as a secret wizard amongst muggles had taught Harry to be very careful with his limited magical items and Hermione’s bag was a life saver as only a magical being could open it.

Throwing the bag on his back Harry looked around the room and gave his bedroom a small sad smile. It wasn’t a nice place as the pale yellow paint was peeling off the walls and there was patch of mould on the ceiling but as his first sanctuary in this world he would miss it.

As he headed into the lounge room Harry was met with only Stark’s presence and he couldn’t help but sigh in relief; while Coulson wasn’t as bad as Fury he was glad to be away from SHIELD. Now that they were alone Stark was staring at him as though he were trying to figure out a puzzle and it made Harry deeply uncomfortable.

Eager to think of something to fill the silence Harry held out his hand and gave the hero a smile.

“I’m Harry Potter.” 

Stark stared at the hand with open bemusement. “Tony Stark…billionaire, philanthropist, genius, playboy and Avenger. Ready to get out of here?”

Harry bit his lip to the question regardless of knowing that the contract he’d signed would hold him to his new position. There was so much he didn’t know about the situation, the people involved or even the state of the world. He’d learnt a lot in the three months he’d been there but it was rather limited knowledge and Harry was tired of being in the dark.

“Why did you help me?”

Rather than be offended by his genuine question Stark just gave him a half smile. “You heard what I said to Agent.”

Harry shook his head. “Yeah, I heard what you said but there’s gotta be more to it than that. In my experience people don’t normally help strangers without wanting something in return. As a business man you surely want something from me…perhaps you saw something in that SHIELD file you mentioned that you liked.”

“Fair enough.” Tony replied with a shrug not letting his easy going demeanour fault even slightly at Harry’s disbelieving attitude. “I suppose you’re right and could say that while Fury wants to keep your mind a secret, I want you to use it. As a child prodigy myself I like to support and help others…although…we’ll have to work on your terrible lying.”

Harry’s heart jumped. “What do you mean?”

“Well, back in your _‘interrogation’_ your excuse to Agent and Fury had a few holes. After all if you were working on camouflage then it doesn’t explain how someone clearly English appeared in New York with no passport or flight history.”

Seeing Harry open his mouth to defend his lie, Stark continued on. “…yes…yes…I heard you say that you paid someone to hide your identity, and it could be argued that said hacker hide your movements…but give me some credit. I know you’re lying.”

Rather than be arrogant or angry at Harry lying to government agencies Stark looked almost gleefully proud of him. 

“So you’re helping me because you think I’m going to offer you some of my products?”

“Yes…and no.”

Harry frowned as the smirking Stark suddenly looked slightly more serious. “Fury wants you badly under lock and key. Yet from all records he believes you to be just a chemistry prodigy with no real evidence of being a threat to anyone. There must be more to it as his MO doesn’t usually include kidnapping or threatening innocence; if he thought you were a threat he’d have killed you in a heartbeat but kidnapping isn’t how he usually acquires new staff.”

Hearing how blasé Stark was talking about Fury killing him Harry shivered as he made connections to a crazy man in his past, the head of a group of powerful people, wanting to kill him for existing. Right now with his wandless magic being rather limited and only having a few potions up his sleeve Harry turned to Stark.

“And you can live up to the contract…you can protect me from him?”

Tony just smirked and reached out to his shoulder and pushing him to the door. “Let me worry about SHIELD, you’ve got work to do.”


	3. Where there is a will, there is a way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry moves into Avengers Tower and works on a plan to strenghen his magic. He had been grabbed and manipulated by SHIELD and he wouldn't let himself be so weak like that again, but stuck in a tower with muggle heroes would require Harry to be careful with his training.

The moment that Harry and Stark stepped outside his apartment building a horde of people descended upon them all screaming Stark’s name. Harry took a nervous step back as the massive fan group started to press in on them. He had always thought that his popularity as the Boy-Who-Lived was bad but this was awful. Harry couldn’t help but think as the group started chanting and waving handmade posters at the two of them that he might have misjudged Stark’s importance in this world.

While Harry hadn’t being in the spotlight and just wanted a nice normal and happy life, he was thankful that Stark didn’t have such concerns. The famous hero took a few steps forward and started addressing the crowd with more swagger and pandering than the egotistical Gilderoy Lockhart could accomplish. Harry was just considering his chances of running back into his apartment and leave Stark to his eager fan base when he heard a hand grabbed his shoulder. 

With his still war hardened reflexes Harry spun around and moved into a defensive position as he took in his attacker. Rather than the robe wearing Death Eater his instincts declared him as, the stranger was a bulky man in a crisp black and white suit with a hard expression on his face. Realising what he’d done Harry forced himself to relax as he mentally told himself repeatedly that he wasn’t in danger; it took the fourth repeat before he could feel his shoulders start loosening from their tightly sprung state. If the man was surprised by Harry’s reaction he thankfully didn’t visibly react other than to open his mouth. 

Watching the stranger open and close his mouth Harry could only frown, completely lost as to what he was saying, as the man’s voice was overpowered by the crowd around them. Clearly determined to explain what he wanted the man tried again with little success as the only thing Harry could hear was Stark’s name and several screaming fans.

Harry smirked as he watched a crazy fan with a sign saying ‘I WANT IRON MAN BABIES’ accidently elbow the man in the head in her attempt to push her way forward to her crush. Other than rolling his eyes and glaring at the fifty year old woman’s exuberance, the stranger only ran a hand through his tussled black hair and held a hand out to Harry.

While he wasn’t sure what the man had been saying as the deafening screams around him were definitely getting worse, but from the offered hand and desperate eyes he got the meaning. Eager to get out of the crowd Harry reached out and grabbed hold of the stranger’s hand. Knowing what was coming Harry braced himself as the man dragged him through the crowd. Surprisingly they didn’t care as to Harry’s and the strangers movements , not even batting an eye at them as their entire focus was on the brunette billionaire hero soaking in their praises with a cocky smirk.

The man led them to the street and around the corner to an impressive sleek limousine. Getting closer to the car the man let go of Harry’s hand and moved to open the car door for him. However, Harry froze a few feet from the limousine. Now that they were somewhere _much_ quieter he was going to find out who the stranger was before he just jumped into his car.

“Who are you?”

“You can call me Happy. I’m Mr Stark’s personal driver and bodyguard.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at the muggle. Aside from the disconnect between the man’s name and his permanent ‘unhappy’ demeanour Harry was surprised by the man’s declaration of being a bodyguard.

“If you’re his bodyguard why aren’t you over there guarding his body?” Harry asked pointing to the still unmovable mass of people in front of his old building.

While he hoped he’d not offended the man he was slightly annoyed at the continued blank expression being thrown his way; the professional looking man hadn’t even twitched one muscle at someone like Harry, completely covered in ratty clothes, calling him incompetent.

“Tony contacted me five minutes ago informing me that I was to help you out of the building and to the car. He’ll meet us at Avenger’s Tower later.”

Harry bit his lip nervously but before he could make up his mind if the stone-like man in front of him was lying or not, a familiar voice echoed from inside the limousine.

“It’s okay, Mr Potter, Mr Hogan is indeed the personal driver and guard to Mr Stark.”

Harry took a step forward and tried to look inside the car but all he could see was the soft black leather of the car seats and what appeared to be a glass minibar in the back.

“Jarvis?” Harry asked.

“Yes, Mr Potter.”

Feeling slightly more comfortable Harry gave Happy, who he assumed from Jarvis was Mr Hogan, a small nod and climbed into the car. 

However, rather than find the owner of the elusive British accent Harry found himself completely alone. Feeling incredibly awkward Harry made himself comfortable next to the cool exterior of the minibar and placed his bag next to him on the seat. Despite himself Harry sighed as the cool refreshing air conditioning rolled over him to beat away the warmish New York air. 

Without further ado, Happy closed the door behind him and Harry watched him walk to the front of the car and jump in. As the engine roared to life and Happy started pulling away from his parking spot, Harry cleared his throat.

“Jarvis?” He repeated half expecting someone to pull down an invisibility cloak and suddenly appear before him.

“Yes, Mr Potter?”

“Where are you?”

The sound of someone clearing their throat caught Harry’s attention as the divider that separated the front and back half of the car lowered. 

“I wouldn’t get too testy with him if I were you.” Happy explained as he made a sharp left turn causing Harry to hold onto the door handle to prevent himself from sliding onto the floor; someone had forgotten to tell Stark the importance of cars having seatbelts. “JARVIS is Tony’s AI and basically controls everything in his life.”

Harry nodded along but Happy’s explanation had a few holes in it that Harry’s curiosity couldn’t let go. “So he’s like Stark’s personal assistant? Is he on speakerphone or something?”

Happy just snorted as Jarvis took over from the driver who had suddenly slammed on the breaks and started muttering angrily about blind drivers.

“No, Mr Potter. AI means artificial intelligence. I am J _ust_ _A_ R _ather_ V _ery_ I _ntelligent_ S _ystem._ I am essentially computer software designed to help Mr Stark and now the Avengers in their daily lives.”

“Oh…so…you’re not British then but a computer.”

“Depends on your view point.” JARVIS said. “While I am essentially a computer system, I was modelled on Mr Stark’s childhood butler, Edwin Jarvis, who was a national British citizen.”

Taking a moment to process something as complicated as a talking, thinking computer, Harry found that he didn’t particularly care. He had spoken to greedy Goblins and befriended brilliant werewolves and caring half-giants – who was he to judge. 

“That counts.” Harry replied with a smile. “It’s nice to finally meet another British person. You’re the only one I’ve come across in months.”

“Pleasure to meet you as well, Mr Potter.” Came the reply but under the computerized soundly tone Harry could’ve sworn he heard sincerity or perhaps even amusement.

A snort was heard from the front as the divider returned to its original position. 

Although the AI wasn’t a riveting conversationalist Harry still enjoyed talking to JARVIS. His viewpoint was refreshing and while he was hesitant to speak about Stark or the Avengers he answered honestly and directly. By the time they reached Avenger’s Tower, Harry had even managed to get JARVIS to agree that, as a fellow Brit, he could just call him Harry. 

Pulling up outside Avengers Tower Harry could only gap at the towering structure. Opening the door and grabbing his bag Harry slid out of the car and continued taking in his surroundings. Avengers Tower was kind of similar to the SHIELD headquarters, enough for Harry to assume they used the same contractor, but Stark’s building seemed more hi-tech somehow. He could immediately tell that he was in a wealthy neighbourhood from the clothes of the muggles walking past; Harry cringed in disgust as one plump woman walked past the building with her pointed nose in the air, the sunlight glinting off her golden broach that rested on the thick animal fur she’d had draped around her bulbous neck. 

While there weren’t as many fans camped outside of Avenger’s Tower, there were at least a handful with similar signs Harry had witnessed outside his old apartment block being held back by a wall of burly security guards. Harry realised that he must have really been engaged in conversation with JARVIS if he had missed their car pausing for security to move and grant them access to the building.

Hearing the neglected car door close behind him Harry turned around to see Happy standing by his car.

“This is where I leave you, Mr Potter. Go inside and make your way up to the eighth floor, I’m sure JARVIS will help you.”

Harry nodded and bid the man farewell before shuffling into the building. The second the sliding doors open Harry immediately felt out of place as he watched very attractive people move around the reception floor wearing elegant and stylish clothing. A few people that passed even looked down at his clothes disapprovingly before moving on.

Harry sighed. At least for now this was his new life and Harry hoped he might finally get the stability and happiness that had been absent so far. Once again feeling eager to get away from people, and their judgement, Harry decided to take Happy’s advice and headed over to the elevators. 

\--

A week went by at Avengers Tower in the blink of an eye and Harry still couldn’t believe this was the turn his life had randomly gone. He had gone from having no identity and living off the few potions he had managed to sell to living in a veritable mansion with muggle heroes and a talking computer.

Stark had given him complete access and ownership of the eighth floor which was divided into two sections. After coming out of the elevator there are two doors. The left door lead to Harry’s personal suite featuring a large bedroom with walk-in wardrobe, a kitchen twice as big as the Dursleys, a guest room and a lounge room featuring a massive flat screen television. The opulence was felt throughout and it took Harry a few days to feel comfortable to walk around it as he felt it was more suited for royalty than a lost wizard. However, Harry did like that his private quarters were completely restricted and only he, and in certain situations Stark, had access to it.

The right door led to a work room that after one day was suddenly packed full of modern chemistry equipment and large whirring machines with blinking lights. Having never really been around much technology before having grown up with the repressive Dursleys and the science lacking wizarding world Harry quickly decided that he wouldn’t ever bother touching any of it.

However, after his first week Harry was surprised that he’d not run into any other person. Stark hadn’t been by to check in or give him a task, as he thought bosses tended to do, instead he’d been left to settle in with only JARVIS for company.

With so much time to think and reflect on what had happened with SHIELD and Stark, Harry began to realise how utterly weak and defenceless he was. Back in the wizarding world he felt confident that he could handle nearly anything to come his way but here with no wand and only a selection of biennial potions he was a sitting duck. So he began to plot.

While he normally didn’t have an issue with risky plans, Harry’s idea was completely riddled with problems. He needed a location where he could practice his wandless magic away from prying muggle eyes, he needed to try and find a way to start growing potion ingredients as he was starting to run _very_ low and he needed advice. His plan for getting all three things involved spell work well above his current ability, but with a lack of other ideas Harry decided to at least try.

It was Sunday when Harry decided to put his plan into action. He grabbed his bag and headed into his spare bedroom before looking up at the ceiling. “JARVIS?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Is there any chance you could stop…filming me in this room…it’s just that I was hoping to do some meditation in here.

“…is something wrong, Harry?”

At the hesitant and concerned reply Harry quickly jumped in. “No, of course not. It’s just that I find it hard to meditate properly if I’m being watched…”

Again Harry’s words were met with only silence until after a moment of thinking he’d done something wrong did he receive a reply.

“I understand, Harry. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I am just a computerized butler for Mr Stark.” JARVIS replied in a slightly more monotone voice than usual. “I have turned off the video features in this room.”

“You are more than a computerized butler, JARVIS, and I don’t mind sharing my reasons with you. We are friends, right?” Harry rebutted feeling slightly guilty for lying but simultaneously feeling bad for JARVIS. He kind of reminded Harry of a house elf; constantly working behind the scenes and never being thanked. 

“Yes…we are friends.” JARVIS replied.

Hearing a slightly more amused tone in his voice Harry just grinned up at the ceiling hoping he was looking into a camera. “Thanks mate.”

Feeling confident that JARVIS wouldn’t be watching him and put the bag down on the bed and headed for the wardrobe. With doubt of his ability swimming in his head Harry pushed them aside and cleared his mind. The wardrobe in his spare room, while still a walk-in with plenty of space, was not nearly as spacious as he needed it to be. Ensuring that the double doors were firmly shut Harry placed both hands on the wood of the doors.

“ _Capacious extremis.”_ Harry chanted but he could instantly tell that the spell failed as there was no

Gritting his teeth Harry cleared his mind again and tried to recall Hermione’s exact use of the spell back during his seventh year in the wizarding world. Hermione had use the undetectable extension charm three times whilst they were on the run from Voldemort and his minions and somehow Harry had to use her demonstration as a guide.

“ _Capacious extremis.”_

Again nothing happened.

Not wanting to be deterred Harry let his desire for a safe space to practice self-defence fuel him as he dug deep for his magic and tried the spell again.

“ _Capacious extremis!”_

This time Harry felt the wood of the door ripple slightly as the spell fled from his finger tips and soaked into the wardrobe. Harry staggered back slightly from the door and bent forward slightly as he started panting out his exhaustion. Despite feeling like he’d just fought a troll Harry was filled with a sudden surge of joy and chuckled at his success. Apart of him doubted he’d ever be able to use spells more complex than second year without a wand, but here he was casting a charm taught during N.E.W.T Charms. He knew he could do it now, he’d only have to practice.

Moving back to collect his bag Harry scooped it up from the bed before retracing his steps and pushing on the white wardrobe door. The wardrobe had easily doubled in size but it still seemed to be comprised of the original materials; there was still the soft grey carpet of the bedroom across the floor and the metal railings for clothes ran right around the room. 

Not wanting to waste time Harry reached into his bag and took out Hermione’s beaded bag. Despite the difficulties he’d had living alone in the muggle world and the loneliness at realising he was the only wizard alive, he hadn’t even bothered asking for advice from this person. However, there was no denying that he would need help and with little other options Harry was stuck.

Finding what he was searching for, Harry pulled out a simple portrait from the bag and propped it up against the wall. The wizard in the portrait was clearly pouting, it was a look that Harry didn’t think suited the ancient wizard at all as his wrinkles intensified making him look slightly ancient in his frame. 

“There is no point in pouting, Phineas, Hermione put in you the bag for a logical reason.” Harry said sighing at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Phineas Black was once a Headmaster of Hogwarts and during the war when they’d been at Grimmauld Place hiding out Hermione had stashed his portrait in the bag. The idea had been to prevent the portrait from passing on any information to the Death Eaters at Hogwarts via his main portrait in the Headmaster’s office. What wasn’t part of the plan was for Harry to accidentally drag the portrait to another world via a charmed bag.

When the man didn’t respond but continued pouting angrily Harry sighed to himself realising that despite his success with the spell there was a long way to go.


End file.
